Latest / Aurangzeb: The Emperor Who Expanded and Broke the Mughal Empire — Fexingo History / Aurangzeb's Royal Library: Books, Scholars, and Censorship
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Aurangzeb's wars and taxes, but I want to look at something quieter: his library. The man was a voracious reader and a serious collector of books. Luna: Aurangzeb? The puritanical emperor who banned music? He had a library? Lucas: Absolutely. In fact, his library was one of the largest in the Islamic world. It wasn't just religious texts either. He had works on astronomy, medicine, philosophy, even poetry. The imperial library, or kitabkhana, was housed in the Red Fort in Delhi and later in Aurangabad in the Deccan. Luna: So he liked books. Did he actually read them, or was it just a status thing? Lucas: He read them — and annotated them. Several surviving manuscripts have his marginal notes in his own hand. He made corrections, added comments, even criticized certain passages. There's a famous story where he received a beautifully illuminated copy of the Shahnama, the Persian epic, and he wrote in the margin that the artist had wasted his time on frivolous pictures. Luna: That sounds exactly like him. But what about Hindu texts? I remember you mentioned he commissioned translations. Lucas: That's a fascinating contradiction. Despite his reputation for destroying temples, Aurangzeb actually patronized the translation of Sanskrit works into Persian. The most famous is the Razmnama, which is the Persian translation of the Mahabharata. It was originally commissioned by Akbar, but Aurangzeb had new copies made for his own library. He also had translations of the Ramayana and the Upanishads. Luna: Wait, the Upanishads? That seems very un-Aurangzeb-like. Lucas: Exactly. It suggests that his intellectual curiosity transcended religious boundaries. In fact, he employed a number of Hindu scholars in his library, like the poet Kavindracharya Saraswati. But he also had strict rules: no images of living beings in the manuscripts. So while Akbar's workshops produced paintings full of humans and animals, Aurangzeb's copies often had the miniatures removed or painted over. Luna: So he censored art even in his own library. That must have been a huge loss. Lucas: It was. Many beautiful illustrations were destroyed or cut out. But not all — some artists adapted by painting elaborate floral and geometric designs instead. The calligraphy, though, reached new heights. Aurangzeb employed master calligraphers like Muhammad Husayn Kashmiri and Abdul Hamid Lahori, who produced some of the most exquisite naskh and nasta'liq scripts ever seen. Luna: What about the Quran? He must have had multiple copies. Lucas: Oh yes. He commissioned several absolutely stunning Qurans. One of the most famous is the 'Alamgir Quran', written in gold on blue paper, with intricate illumination. It took years to complete. These were meant for his mosque in Delhi and for the Prophet's Mosque in Medina. They were luxury items, but also acts of piety. Luna: So he was pious, but also proud. Makes sense. Lucas: Speaking of piety, he also had a collection of works on Islamic jurisprudence, the fatawa e alamgiri, which he himself helped compile. But alongside that, he kept books on Sufism, even though he sometimes suppressed Sufi practices. He was a complex patron: he supported scholars like Shaikh Nizamuddin Sahlvi, but he also banned certain texts he considered heretical, like the works of Ibn Arabi. Luna: So there was an official list of banned books? Lucas: Yes, in a sense. His courtiers would report on books circulating in the empire, and if they contained ideas contrary to Sunni orthodoxy, they were confiscated and burned. This happened with some Shi'a works and also with writings that seemed to challenge his authority. The library was both a centre of learning and a tool of control. Luna: Do we know what happened to his library after he died? Lucas: The decline was gradual. His successors, especially Bahadur Shah, maintained it for a while, but as the empire weakened, the library was plundered and dispersed. Many manuscripts ended up in private collections in Iran, Turkey, and Europe. Some are now in the British Library, the Khuda Bakhsh Library in Patna, and the Raza Library in Rampur. But a huge amount was lost, especially during the 1857 rebellion when the Red Fort was sacked. Luna: That's heartbreaking. All that knowledge, just scattered. Lucas: It is. But some of the manuscripts survived, and they give us a direct window into his mind. For example, his personal copy of the tarikh i alfi, a history of the first thousand years of Islam, has his notes questioning certain events. He wasn't just a passive reader; he was engaging critically with the text. Luna: I'd love to see those marginalia. Did he ever write his own books? Lucas: He wrote letters, collected in the ruqaat i alamgiri, but not a full-length book. However, he did dictate his memoirs, which were later compiled as the Alamgir Nama. But he was always more of a commentator than an author. He saw himself as a defender of orthodoxy, but his library shows he was also a curious intellectual. Luna: And a bit of a control freak. But I guess that's the Aurangzeb we know. Lucas: Exactly. His library is a microcosm of his reign: immense wealth and learning, but also restriction and loss. It's a reminder that history is never black and white. Luna: Speaking of the library, it occurs to me that we've been able to explore all these nuances without any ads. That's a rare thing in podcasts. Lucas: It's intentional. We don't run ads because we want to keep the focus purely on the story. If you find value in that, you can support us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small way to keep the conversations going. Luna: Yeah, no interruptions, no sponsorships. Just history the way it should be told. Lucas: Anyway, back to the library. One of the most intriguing figures associated with it was a scholar named Mahbub Rahman, a Persian historian who wrote a biography of Aurangzeb. He had access to the imperial library and used it extensively. His work gives us details about the library's organization. Luna: How was it organized? Was it like a modern library with catalogues? Lucas: They had catalogues, yes. Books were classified by subject: Quranic sciences, hadith, jurisprudence, philosophy, medicine, astronomy, poetry, and history. There were also separate sections for Persian, Arabic, Turkish, and Sanskrit works. The head librarian was a high-ranking official, often a scholar himself, like Mirza Muhammad Hasan Qatil. Luna: Qatil — that name came up in the episode on Aurangzeb's letters. He was a poet, right? Lucas: Yes, he was a poet and an accomplished calligrapher. He served as the librarian for a time. The library staff included not just librarians but also bookbinders, illuminators, and translators. It was a huge operation. Aurangzeb allocated a significant budget for the library, even during his costly Deccan wars. Luna: So he prioritized books over bullets, in a way. Lucas: To some extent. But remember, he also used the library to legitimize his rule. He had histories written that glorified his reign, and he controlled the narrative. The library was both a sanctuary for learning and a propaganda tool. Luna: Classic Aurangzeb: everything serves a purpose. Lucas: Right. And his purpose was always to strengthen the empire and his own position. But the library also shows a more human side — the emperor who loved a well-crafted book, who spent hours reading, and who left his thoughts in the margins. Luna: It makes me wonder what he would think of digital books. Lucas: He'd probably insist they be handwritten in gold on blue paper. But seriously, the legacy of his library lives on in the manuscripts that survive. They are treasures that connect us directly to that world.